Nebula
by Fae Orabel
Summary: A short flash fiction about a girl, named Nebula, who went through a crazy experience and found out she was a demigod. But who's her parent? Mentions some iconic characters, but focuses on (OC) Nebula. I will be posting a longer, more detailed version later. Hope you enjoy!


Nebula

I'm awoken by a few campers stirring around the cabin. Slowly opening my eyes, I pray that it's still just a part of the dream world I exited.

But it isn't. I'm really here, in this cabin, in this camp, in this world, all of which shouldn't exist.

I found out I was a demigod when my uncle and I were attacked at a gun show. We weren't really looking for anything in particular, but I knew Uncle was taking notes for my birthday.

"The big 13," he calls it, "Finally a teenager."

He raised me since I was a baby because my mom died in child birth and my dad was nowhere to be found.

I know why now, but he used to say it was "just his sister's luck, finding a jerk and dumb enough to have a child with him." Anytime he tells me stories about my mom, he never forgets to mention the fact that she had horrible taste in men.

We were just about to look at the rifles when a huge bark rung out through the building. People were screaming and running. When the crowd had parted just enough, I saw the biggest dog ever. It had a pitch black coat, paws the size of elephant feet, and glowing red eyes. It was sniffing the air as if it were hunting something: Me.

It looked right at me and lunged.

At the end of the horrific event, my uncle had to be taken to the hospital, and I got to shoot a ton of guns that day.

Next thing I know, some kids are knocking at my uncle's door saying I have to come with them because I'm in danger otherwise. I was resistant until my uncle told me to go with them.

Now, I'm here. Camp Half-Blood: A camp for people that are half-human and half-god. No, not _the_ God, but Greek gods. Apparently, they still exist and one of them is my father.

I don't know which one my father is yet, though, because I have yet to be 'claimed.' So, I'm staying in the Hermes Cabin until then.

I'm still not sure if this is all just some practical joke, but the lessons are definitely real.

"Nebula, this is the arena, where we practice sword-fighting and combat skills. We'll have you fitted for a sword and then get you started to see how well you do. Okay?" Travis Stoll explains to me.

He's the co-head counselor of the Hermes Cabin with his brother Connor. Everyone calls them twins, but Travis is older.

We head to the weapons closet and I see kids dueling throughout the entire place. I get a little nervous watching them because it's my first time ever holding a sword, but I think I could hold my own because I've been in defense classes and knowing my way around a gun since I was five years old. Travis hands me a couple to see how they feel, the balance and such.

Eventually, he hands me one that has a black hilt and has a bright red metallic coloring.

"It's so perfect," I breathe.

It feels just right in my hand, like I was born with it there. Travis nods and we head to the middle of the arena. Looking around, I notice some of the other campers are here for their lessons, too.

Immediately, I see Percy and Grover. Percy is the son of Poseidon and kind of a celebrity at camp. I see the Apollo kids practicing archery. There are also the big, burly figures of some Ares kids. Travis tells me to wait as he talks to the Ares head counselor, Clarisse.

I watch nervously as she looks around him, visibly scoffs, and then calls over another one of the campers, an obvious Ares kid. Travis walks back over with the stranger and tells me that his name is Marcus and I will be dueling with him, but he will go easy on me. Nothing about this kid looks, "easy."

He shakes my hand and introduces himself, doing what I think was supposed to be a smile.

First, he teaches me some stances and basics.

"You're kinda scrawny, kid, you sure you can handle that weapon? It's a foot longer than most of the practice ones," he warns me.

"I'm fine," I answer quietly.

The truth is, I _was_ fine, but I hate when people comment on my size.

I've always gotten flack for being so skinny and short, and even though the short jokes are funny sometimes, I can't help my weight. I'm 5'2" and just barely past 100 pounds. I used to get picked on for being anorexic, but I'm not.

Food is my best friend.

I also used to get picked on for being blonde, but for an entirely different set of reasons. Sometimes my size comes in handy because people underestimate me, but I'm all muscle.

We bow to each other and start.

A few minutes in, I find it really easy to figure out his weak spots. He seems to be catching onto my momentum, though, and goes at me a little harder.

Then suddenly, something changes in me and I get a fire in my gut. In seconds, I have this big lug on his back with the tip of my sword to his neck.

"I win," I mutter.

I gained a crowd and I hear someone whistle.

Then there's a wash of red light over my head and I see a holographic spear and boar's head floating above me. People gasp.

"That can't be! I mean, just look at her!" I hear Clarisse shout.

Floating above my head is the symbol for the god of war: Ares.

I think I've just been claimed. Then everyone gasps again and kneels. I'm so confused until I hear a rough peel of chuckling behind me.

"Hello, daughter."


End file.
